of coats of arms and other devices, were ornamented with clusters of diamonds in the same manner. And from the middle of the roof, where the principal arches met, was hung, by a gold chain, an immense lamp of one hollowed pearl, perfectly transparent, in the midst of which was suspended a large carbuncle that, by the power of magic, continually turned round, and shed over all the hall a clear and mild light like the setting sun; but the hall was so large, and these dazzling objects so far removed, that their blended radiance cast no more than a pleasing lustre, and excited no other than agreeable sensations in the eyes of Child Rowland. The furniture of the hall was suitable to its architecture; and at the farther end, under a splendid canopy, seated on a gorgeous sofa of velvet, silk, and gold, and—
"Kembing her yellow hair wi' a silver kemb.
There was his sister burd Ellen;
She stood up him before."
Says —
"'God rue thee, poor luckless fode,[1]
What hast thou to do here?'
"And hear ye this, my youngest brither,
Why badena ye at hame?
Had ye a hunder and thousand lives,
Ye canno brook ane o' them.
"And sit thou down; and wae, O wae.
That ever thou was born;
For come the King o' Elfland in,
Thy leccam[2] is forlorn!"
A long conversation then takes place. Child Rowland tells her the news [of merry Carlisle] and of his own expedition, and concludes with the observation that, after his long and fatiguing journey to the castle of the King of Elfland, he is very hungry.
Burd Ellen looked wistfully and mournfully at him, and shook her head, but said nothing. Acting under the influence of a magic which she could not resist, she arose, and brought him a golden bowl full of bread and milk, which she presented to him with the same timid, tender, and anxious expression of solicitude.
